Nightmare
by CallMeFangirl
Summary: And when your tears drown you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale throat and choke the life from you..


The world was dark, bathed in the light of the moon. The night was loud, and booms, cracks, and clangs could be heard from within the safety of the castle's walls. Fires were coming in on the castle now, and the heat could be felt up in the highest tower, no matter the distance from the fight.

Stannis Baratheon had made an attempt at overrunning Kings Landing. His men came in on their ships, eyes ablaze, and swords risen. The young King Joffrey had run, and now it was only moments before the castle was to be seized. Every Lannister would perish. As would the remaining Stark girl. Stannis would take the throne as his own, as his late brother Robert had done to the Mad King Aerys.

Jaime stood at his balcony, watching as the city fell at the feet of the stag. Fires raged every way he looked, the blase reflecting off his green eyes in an eerie way. Even from the height of the towers of the castle, the heat stung his cheeks as he stood, watching the city plummet before his eyes. He felt unusually calm, not a single shred of fear in his body. He pondered where Cersei could be, whether she'd be hiding with the rest of the noblewomen in the cellars. He shook his head, brow furrowed. _She is a lion. We do not cringe. _

He turned back into his chambers, leaving the smokey air behind. He padded over to the bed where his armor and sword lay, and began to intricately place each piece of metal on his body. If he would die tonight, his pride would not be shattered. For he would take every last slash they would give him, every last blow. And he would take it all in stride. All with armor and sword, and the grace of a lion on a hunt. If he died tonight, he would die an honorable death.

After placing the armor on his body, and lifting his sword into his hilt, Jaime looked at himself in the mirror, examining his face. He remained stoic, eerily calm and collected, despite the fact that he would be slaughtered in minutes after the castle was taken. He studied his eyes, and his jawline, the way the armor gleamed against his golden hair and bright green eyes. A sigh escaped his lips and he shut his eyes for a moment, then decided to leave the safety of his chambers to go find his sister. Tonight, he imagined her sitting upon the throne that she had always dreamed of, waiting for the Baratheon family to come and take her head. She would die with honor, and a roar in her throat. He didn't doubt that._  
_

He unbarred his door, and strolled out as if it were any other normal day. His hand was clasping and unclasping itself against the embroidered hilt of his sword, his thumb tracing a never-ending circle around the head of the lion that sat there proudly. Women and children passed him, quietly shuffling their ways through the halls to make it to the safety of the cellars. Each were in their nightgowns of silk. Jaime could only think that their beautiful skirts would be tattered soon, and their faces bruised and cut. It was an unsaid custom during wars, that when men found the women and girls, they would be raped, and beaten until they were unconscious. Some men had the decency to even take them as wives later on, though many a times, the girls were found sprawled out, their dresses torn, blood seeping from between their legs, with only a ghost of the heartbeat they once had. The thought made the contents of his stomach curdle, and he quickly pushed the venomous demons away, turning down the long hall that led to the throne room.

Before he even stepped down the stairs that led to the large room, and echo of whispers could be heard. He looked over, and their was his golden twin, as beautiful and radiant as ever, dressed in her finest dress of pure Lannister red. Jaime thought it hauntingly resembled the color of blood, causing a shiver to run over his body, feeling the small hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. His sister's hair was knotted in a braid at the side of her neck, falling down her shoulder and across her breast. The glint of the golden corset wrapped around her torso shown in what little light the room had. It was armor, of course she would not go down without a fight. Lions rarely do.

As Jaime got closer, stepping down the staircase oh so quietly, he realized that she was not alone. A young boy was sat upon her lap, his head lolled back against her shoulder. Tommen, her only child that seemingly remained innocent despite the things he's grown to witness. _Their_ only child, Jaime corrected his thoughts. He approached her now, but she did not look up from the child on her lap. Her forehead was pressed to his golden hair, and he slowly came to the realization that she was crying. That was when he saw the small bottle reflecting the dim light in her hand. Poison. She had poisoned him. Perhaps to make him go more comfortably than losing his head? But the lion shook his head, and stepped up the stairs to the throne, and his weeping sister. His heart wrenched in his chest as he looked down upon her, noting the whiteness of her knuckles as she clutched her boy tightly. Though he was a step away, she still did not look up at him, still whispering words of comfort into his soft hair. Jaime knelt down in front of her, his hand sliding down her arm, his own eyes filling with tears at the sight of her so distraught.. So broken..

"Cersei," he whispered quietly, his thumb rubbing her arm. Her head tilted up slightly, her own eyes red and puffy from her crying. No matter the way she looked, she was always beautiful to him. She let out a breath, and then a sob escaped her throat as her hand slid into Jaime's hair. She pulled him close to her, and buried her face into the crook of his neck, crying. He turned his head slightly, pressing a feather-light kiss to her temple, shutting his eyes tight in remorse as he pulled away. They opened on their own accord, and found the face of Tommen. His cheeks that were normally so bright and cheerful were now pale, and icy looking. His eyes were closed, thankfully. Jaime didn't think he could have looked upon those lifeless eyes and remained as calm as he was now.

"I had to do it, Jaime. They would have taken him. They would have _hurt_ him and made me watch! I had to do it!," Cersei spoke in a raised whisper, another sob choking her. Jaime nodded at her, making shushing noises. "I know love, i know," he said, as he kissed her forehead. After a moment, he pulled back, looking in her eyes that reminded him so much of himself. His thumb brushed away tears that were falling from her eyes now, and her hand caught his wrist, squeezing it tightly as if she needed the support. Her head tilted into his touch as she closed her eyes. Jaime's thumb brushed down her cheek, then across her jawline, and fell to her neck where it rested.

Before Cersei could speak another word, her eyes snapped open, and the only thing that ran through her head was a haunting voice from so long ago. _"And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale throat and choke the life from you." _She realized then this was the moment, and her eyes locked onto Jaime's as she nodded at him in understanding. He pursed his lips, a single tear falling down his own cheek. Cersei reached to his side, and tore the sword from his hilt as she raised it, the tip of it pressing to the weak spot in his armor. They stared at one another before either of them moved or spoke. "We came into this world together, and we'll leave it the same way." Her voice was quiet but sure, and Jaime nodded in response, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "Together," he said quietly. Cersei pressed the sword upwards, and it dug through the metal, crushing through his ribs. A gasp came from his lips as the blood began to spill from his body and into her lap. Jaime's hands pressed into her throat, her cheeks reddening from the loss of oxygen, and slowly, they both began to slip away..

Jaime awoke with a start. A layer of sweat was plastered against his forehead and chest, his golden locks plaited to his head. He turned on his side abruptly and found Cersei's eyes groggily looking at him with concern. "Brother?," she asked in a concerned tone. Jaime shook his head and turned, pulling his sister's naked form against his own. She pressed her shoulders back into his chest, despite the heat of Kings Landing. He kissed her shoulder, and let out a sigh of relief. His hands wrapped around her tiny waist, and her fingers coiled with his own there, squeezing them reassuringly. Jaime's eyes stared out at the moon, pressing his face into his sister's hair for comfort, taking in her scent.

Tomorrow, Joffrey would be crowned King. They would not have to be scarce with their affair any longer. Robert Baratheon was dead. He was dead, and now Cersei was entirely his again. She wouldn't be beaten or mistreated ever again. She would be his, and his alone. They were meant to be with one another. And they finally could.

Jaime settled down into the covers, his eyes closing as he was calmed by the soft noise of her shallow breathing. She was his, and he was hers, and that's how it would be from now on until the end of time. It had never happened. It was simply a nightmare.


End file.
